


Tales of snow and blood

by Lokiismylife



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dragons, F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Multi, made for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokiismylife/pseuds/Lokiismylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6 unlikely tales linking in with each other, follow the stories of a bandit, a conjurer, a traveler, an assassin, a beast and a thief as they travel through the land of Skyrim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Begining

**Author's Note:**

> This work is made for my friends, placing them in the world of Skyrim. Written just for fun, I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> If I spell anything wrong, I'm sorry

 

The crisp morning air was refreshing to all in the Provence. In the North where the ground is covered in sheets of snow, safely protected from the cold in the Collage of Winterhold, the high elf novice snuggled down in the warm covers. In the woods of Falkwearth, the innocent-looking Breton settled down next to the roaring river, picking flowers of red, blue and purple. In the camp of the travelling merchants, the Khajiit stretched and yawned, shivering from the cold even though their bodies are covered in fur. In Candlehearth hall in Windhelm, the Nord with scales put more wood on the fire. In a crumbling fort, the Nord Bandit sharpened her sword.

The life in Skyrim was peaceful enough for the inhabitants to enjoy the morning. There was one though, who did not appreciate the morning air or the harsh sun slightly burning her skin. Rows of wooden carts were making their way to Helgen, leading their passengers to their death. On one of the carts, sat a vampire Breton, her hands bound with rough rope and a cloth covering her golden eyes for the sun, she felt hands removing the cloth and it was pulled down. She hissed as the brightness of the scenery stunned her but it died down. Across from her sat a male Nord in metal amour laced with blue cloth.

“Hey, they finally decided to take that thing off you, huh?” The blond huffed “You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into the Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there.” The vampire suddenly noticed the other two on the cart, one was the thief and the other had a cloth over his mouth.

“What’s wrong with him?” The thief stared at the silent passenger. “Hold your tongue! That is Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king of Skyrim.” The Blond barked at the thief, clearly loyal to Ulfric. The vampire rolled her eyes. The war between the Stormcloak rebellion and the Imperials had affected the whole realm, many families torn between loyalties and death, all for the sake of a throne. Personally, even though she did not like getting caught in these huge affairs, she was secretly was rooting for the Imperials even though it was them that had captured her. The Stormcloak believe that Skyrim belongs to the Nords and everyone should go back to where they came from or be treated with distrust. Not all of them believed this but a majority did.

Caught up in her thoughts, she was drawn back into the conversation. “You’re the leader of the rebellion, if they have you, oh gods, where are they taking us?” The thief panicked, scared for the obvious answer. “I don’t know where they are taking us but Sovenguard awaits.” The blond sighed as they spotted a small settlement ahead, their doom. “Where are you from horse thief? “ The blond turned to the terrified thief. “Why do you care?” was the bitter response. At that the blond slightly smiled “A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.” “Rorickstead, I’m from Rorickstead.” The thief stuttered as they passed through the town’s large wooden gates. Imperial guards patrolled the area and sitting proudly on a white stallion was an Imperial Commander.

“General Tullius, the Imperial Governor. And he has the damn Thalmor with him; I bet they had something to do with this.” The Blond glared at the High Elves also perched on their horses as the carts went passed.

“This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl here. I wonder if Vilod is still making mead with juniper berries.” The blond smiled sweetly as he remembered the past but the smile was short lived as he sighed.

“It’s funny, as a child, Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe.” The villagers stared at the carts, some with pity some with disgust. Sitting on a house veranda, a young boy was looking at them with curiosity.

“Come inside, little cub.” The boy’s father spoke, “Why, I wanna watch the soldiers.” The boy protested, oblivious to what was going to happen to the prisoners. “Inside the house now!” The father led him inside, the grumbling protests of the boy still heard by the vampire.

“We are stopping, why are we stopping?” The thief stuttered when the carts started to bring into a halt. “Why do you think? End of the line.” The blond replied but then was interrupted by a female imperial solider

“Alright, get out of the carts one by one.” She barked as the prisoners from the other carriage reluctantly rose.

“Empire loves their damn list. Come on then, better not keep the gods waiting.” The blond stood accompanied by the thief who yelled

“You got to tell them, we’re not with you.” He pleaded to the blond.

“Face your death with some courage, thief.” Was the only reply he got, the vampire was the last to get off, at the back of the group of prisoners watching them get called up. The female imperial was standing proudly next to another male imperial solider who was calling out the name of the prisoners in their cart.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.” Ulfric grunted and walked towards where the other prisoners were gathering in front of a watch tower,

“It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric” The blond said proudly.

“Ralof of Riverwood.” The blond walked towards the Imperial solider who looked at him with a grimace as if remembering a painful memory, Ralof scoffed then proceeded to follow Ulfric.

“Lokir of Rorickstead” The dark-haired thief yelled and began to run away

“I’m not a criminal; you’re not going to kill me.” His bound hands prevented him from running any faster and before he could make it up the hill, an arrow flew straight into his back and he fell with a thud.

“Anyone else feel like running?” The female imperial taunted, the other shook his head and noticed the last prisoner.

“Wait” He looked down at the list then glanced back up, a look of confusion evident on his face. “Who are you?” He finally asked the vampire.

“My name is Lilliana” The Imperial looked at her then turned to his companion

“What do we do? She is not on the list.” He cried.

“Forget the list, Hadvar. She goes to the block.” Hadvar looked at Lilliana with pity.

“I’m sorry; I’ll make sure your remains return to High Rock.” He led her towards the crowd of prisoners standing in front of a tall stone tower. What caught Lillian’s attention was the man standing was a giant axe, sharpening it and the stone block with a curve, just the right size for a neck.


	2. Annah- The giant

Three giants stood around the roaring fire as they tore into the flesh of some bandits who dared to attack their mammoths while the wild looking ginger hid behind a rock nearby, panting heavily. The ginger turned around to view the remains of her poor companion, only to be spotted by one of the giants nearby. It charged towards her, the ground shaking with each step it took. The bandit panicked, dropped her axe and sprinted in the direction of civilization, deciding that lying in a cell was a better fate than being ripped to pieces by giants.

^^^^^^^

One of the Whiterun guards spotted the ginger running for her life frantically, behind her a giant was smashing through farms to reach the rogue. Cabbages went flying through the air as the giant swang its hammer, roaring triumphantly as it got closer and closer. Suddenly, a fierce dark haired woman covered in scars and fur bounded towards the giant on her galloping stead, throwing her axe with accuracy and strength, embedding it in the giants face. Dark blood spurted all over the surrounding people; the ginger cringed as she smelled the foul stretch of unwashed giant flesh. The guard came towards her, sword drawn.

“Well well, what do we have ere, a bandit on the run!” The guard said in a thick accent. “Stop gloating and get on with it” Annah snarled as the guard nodded then applied thick iron manacles around her pale freckled wrists.

“Hey you,” The guard yelled at the warrior woman who was starting her horse into a trot towards the town of Whiterun. “Take this scum with ya, throw her in a cell” He commanded and handed the ginger to the woman. As Annah walked and stumbled behind the horse, chained to the woman, she thought ‘Well, that couldn’t have gone any better’.


	3. Lilliana-Helgen

_What caught Lilliana’s attention was the man standing was a giant axe, sharpening it and the stone block with a curve, just the right size for a neck and her final resting place._

General Tullius marched towards Ulfric

“Ulfric Stoarmcloak, some here in Helgen would call you a hero but a hero doesn’t use the power of the voice to kill the High King and usurp his throne.” Ulfric muffled reply was the only response he got.

“You started this war and now, we are going to finish it.” The General turned to a woman covered in light brown cloth.

“Give them their last rights.” The priest raised her arms and cried into the sky. “As we send your soul into Atherious, let the blessing of eight divines…”

The priest was rudely interrupted by a red haired Stormcloak who walked forward towards the block.

“For the love of Talos, let’s get this over with.” The priest huffed “As you wish” The red head placed his neck in the curve of the block and yelled angrily “Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

The headsman raised his axe and it hit its mark. Blood splattered all over the block and his head rolled down into a wooden box. Echoing through the valley, a strange shriek was heard.

“What was that?” Somebody cries, “It’s nothing, next the Breton.” The Imperial commander pointed to Lilliana. She gulped; half racked with nervousness half with hungry, the blood shining on the stone looked rather appealing.

“Come on prisoner, nice and easy.” She walked towards the block and knelt, placing her head down on the stone. The smell of blood filled her starved senses, her vision slightly blurred by the red. Above her the headsman raised the axe and she closed her eyes, awaiting her doom. The shriek was heard again, louder and Lilliana’s eyes snapped open. In the corner of her vision, a huge shadow darkened the snow of the mountains in the valley, the piercing cries getting closer.

“What in Oblivion is that?” General Tullius yelled, seeing the creature as it landed on the tower. The headsman turned around, giving Lilliana a clear view. The creature had black scales covered its large body, wings folded and glowing orange eyes that almost pierced through Lilliana’s soul.

“DRAGON!” She heard someone scream as it opened its mouth, revealing long, sharp teeth. Lilliana thought she heard it speak and with that, the sky darkened; dark grey clouds covered the bright blue morning sky and falling from the heavens came flaming boulders, raining down like arrows. It looked at her once more before it launched itself into the sky, attacking any in its path. The sheer power of the dragon’s wings caused Lilliana to fall from her already kneeling position; her vision blurred, her world reducing to the dirt brown of the ground and the flashing red. She closed her eyes, lulled by the ground beneath her shaking.  


Suddenly, she was raised to her feet by the blond man Ralof. “Hey you, the gods won’t give us another chance. Come on!” He pulled her safely to another crumbling tower and closed the wooden door.

‘That won’t do much against a dragon’ she felt like scoffing but still was catching her breath.

“Jarl Ulfric” Ralof said in surprise “Was that really a dragon? Legend bringers of the end time.” Ulfric’s response was said grimly “Legends don’t burn down villages.”  


Lilliana struggled with her bonds but it was hopeless so she turned to Ralof but he was too busy with his own. She walked up the stone stairs, the sound of battle still evident, when she reached half-way up the tower she noticed that it had collapsed, there was no-where to go. A man scrambled around the rocky remains, frantically trying to find a way out. Lilliana was about to walk back down when the tower shook and the wall that she had previously stood by, was broken as the head of the dragon smashed through and grabbed the man in its mouth then flew off. Lilliana looked out the hole in the wall; down below her was a house which had its hay roof burnt off, leaving the wooden roof support bare and a lovely nice hole for her to jump down into. She gulped and lunched forward, landing rather well considering the high chance that it could’ve ended incredibly badly. She continued to run through the remains of the house and found herself in the company of the imperial soldier Hadvar, an old man and the little boy who was so desperate to see the soldiers. The old man was hiding behind more remains of houses as Hadvar was trying to lead the boy to safety when the dragon landed right behind them causing them to tumble into the dirt.

“Hey!” Lilliana shouted grabbing the dragon’s attention before it could attack. It screeched and flames flew out of its mouth. She hid with the others and Hadvar turned to her

“Still alive? Stick with me if you want to stay that way.” Lilliana scoffed over the sound of the flames “If I recall, you and your friends were actually trying to kill me.”

Hadvar was going to reply when the dragon took off, causing the ground to shake. “Come on!” He pulled her up and yelled at the old man “Take care of him.” He pointed to the boy, the man nodded “Gods be good, Hadvar”

Hadvar pulled Lilliana along the burning remains of Helgen, the screams and cries of battle filling the once quiet morning air. “Get down.” Hadvar yelled, pulling her near the wall just in time too because the dragon landed on the house behind them, its claw wings stuck into the dirt where Lilliana just stood. It took off yet again and Hadvar grabbed her and pulled her right into the battle, bodies lay scattered, bleeding and burned. The General who was dragging an injured woman to safety spotted the two

“Hadvar get to the keep, we’ve leaving” Hadvar nodded and ran towards a fairly in-tact building but stopped abruptly when Ralof appeared around the corner. Hadvar’s eyes lit up with fury

“Ralof, you damn traitor out of my way!” Ralof smirked “We’re leaving, Hadvar and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”

Lilliana was caught in the middle of the warriors fighting for different sides, obviously well-known with each other. Hadvar brushed past and stood near the wooden door leading into the Keep. “Come on” He called out to her, she turned her head and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dragon swoop down and grab a man in its black talons, sending that man flying in the air. Lilliana gave Ralof one last glance and ran into the Keep, pushing the heavy wooden doors together and the world for Lilliana went black.


	4. Idhara- the Tundra

Idhara purred as she stretched out on the hot stone, the sun shining down on her thick brunette fur. Deeply breathing in the steaming air of the Tundra and glancing to her fellow Khajiit , she felt a longing for her homeland as she viewed her surroundings.

The Tundra was a rare gift from the gods in this harsh land of eternal icy air, un-like the grasslands, the marshes, the forests which even though un-touched by snow still chilled any creature to the bone, the only relief coming from the sun or the thick clothes and fur covering one’s body.

The Tundra however, consisted of steaming hot water running in connected pools, surrounded by dry, sand –like rock and only a few plants here and there. This felt so much like home for Idhara , who had travelled so far from home; leaving the desert of Elsywer with her caravan to trade goods in Skyrim at the peak of the war. It wasn’t her choice to go but she enjoyed the new sights and people, homesick or not; however the worst thing that she ever had to experience was the hatred. The stormcloaks and most Nords disliked foreigners, beast races most of all. Idhara huffed and lapped lightly at her morning breakfast, elswer soup and enjoyed the soft creamy taste. It was going to be a long day of travelling after all, and she needed all the energy she could get.


	5. Elaninde-First lessons

The young high elf curled up, surrounded by furs of wolf, saber and bear to protect her from the bitter cold of the north winds as they draft through the cracks in the College’s stone wall. She had just joined up with the College of Winterhold, preparing to fulfil her dream of being a master conjurer. When Elaninde was a child, she found out she had a natural talent for magic, conjuring a familiar wolf to keep her company when her parents left to go to the Thalmar meeting, her only friends as a child were the conjurations she made for herself. Yawning and stretching out, Elaninde leaped up with a start, pulling open the curtains in the tiny, little room revealing the snowy land where Winterhold lay, the collage loomed over the little wooden town, the wind howling carrying snowflakes with it.

“Hey you, lessons begin in the hall” A dark elf called at Elaninde , before hurrying off. Elaninde quickly dressed in her novice robes, running out the door, grabbing an apple for breakfast, making her way to the Hall of the Elements.

The large iron gates of the Hall open with a piercing screech as Elaninde strolls in, noting the pale blue aura emitting from the stone circle in the middle of the hall, lighting the stone walls with light.

“Welcome, Welcome, we were just beginning, please stay and listen” An old man who Elaninde assumed was Tolfdir cried out to her as she walked over to take her place next to the other initiates.

“So as I was saying, the first thing to understand about magic, that at its very nature, volatile and dangerous” Tolfdir lectured “Unless you can control it, it can and will destroy you”

“Sir, I think we all understand that very well, we wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t control magic!” The dark elf initiate stated.

“Of course, my dear, of course. You all certainly possess some inherit natural ability. That much is not being questioned. What I am taking about is true control, mastery of magic. It takes years if not decades, of practice and study” Tolfdir smiled slightly, wrinkles prominent around his lips.

“Then what are we waiting for, let’s get started” A Khajiit pushed past Elaninde roughly, causing her to stumble.

“Please, Please! This is exactly what I am talking about. Eagerness must be tempered with caution, or else disaster will be inevitable” Tolfdir cried “Are you alright?”

Elaninde smiled and nodded as the Nord spoke up “ But we have only just arrived here” He cried impatiently “You have no idea what we can do, what we are capable off. Why don’t you give us a chance?”

At that Tolfdir turned to Elaninde “You have been quiet so far, what you think we should do?”

Elaninde frowned “I prefer to be practical, I always have but you are right safety is incredibly important when it comes to magic”

The Khajiit huffed “Oh don’t listen to her, we can do it just give it a chance!” The others began to nod.

“Alright, settle down. I suppose we could do something practical” Tolfdir shook his head fondly “Continuing with our theme of safety, we’ll start with Wards. Wards are protective spells that block magic. I’ll teach you all a ward, and we’ll see if you can block the magic, all right?”

“Would you mind helping me with the demonstration? Are you familiar with the ward spell?” Tolfdir asked Elaninde “I know the spell yes but restoration is not my strong point”

“That’s okay, now stand over there and I’ll cast a spell at you and you will block it with a ward” Elaninde turned away, making her stance and focusing her energy towards the spell.

“Everyone else, stand over there. We don’t won’t to get anyone hurt now” Tolfdir conjured a flame in his hand.

In response, the blue ward spell flowed from Elaninde pale gold hands, covering her as the flame hit the shield and disappeared.

“Excellent work” Tolfdir clapped “Well I believe this is a good start, I want you all to practice wards”

“I think we are ready to begin exploring some of the various applications of magic throughout history. The college has undertaken a fascinating excavation in the ruins of Saarthal nearby. It is an excellent learning opportunity. I suggest we meet there tommorow, but for now I thank you” He dismissed the initiates and walked away.

Elaninde sighed and made her way back to her room, drawing the curtain closed and opening a book on conjuration as she sat on the small wooden chair. She traced the image on the book

“Conjuring a Flame Atronach….”


	6. Lilliana- The keep

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the Keep and she saw Hadvar fumbling with his pockets, pulling out a match and feeling around for the candles. The Keep lit up with a dull, flicking light and Hadvar turned to Lilliana, noticing the uncomfortable, rough rope binding her hands together.

“Here” He pulled out an iron dagger from its sheathe and beckoned for Lilliana to come closer. He cut the binds and she rubbed her wrists

“Thanks” She smiled, he nodded and looked around the room. “Find a weapon or some armour.” Lilliana noticed a wooden chest in the corner of the room, she lifted its lid and inside was a blunt iron sword and a suit heavy imperial armour. Hadvar appeared behind her “Put that on and give that sword a few swings.”

Lilliana shook her head “I’m not putting that on, it’s too heavy and the sword is blunt, it’s not going to do anything against …well anything.” Hadvar raised his eyebrows “Well, there is nothing else here.” Lilliana sighed and her thirst hit her again ‘Oh gods, I’m so thirsty, wish I could just rip their throats out’ she smirked to herself.

“Umm aren’t you going to change though?” Hadvar frowned glancing at the thin brown, ragged clothes that just barely covered Lilliana’s body. “What no, I’m fine.” She tossed the armour down and sauntered towards the iron door, pushing it open “You coming?”


	7. Meesei- Working

“Damn this weather!” Meesei growled as she was hit with icy cold, unrelenting wind. She struggled to keep her hold on the wood pile that was in her arms as she ran to her home, her bare feet hitting the stone of the port of Windhelm.

“Do you need help, sister?” Her scaly brother approached her, green lizard hands picking up a piece of wood she had dropped.

“I am quite alright, Horns. You should probably return to you own job before you offer your hand to me” Meesei raised her eyebrow and nodded in the direction of a very angry Nord sailor who wanted Jagged-Horns to secure his boat to the port.

Jagged-Horns snorted in agreement and Meesei hurried on her way, weaving through the many Argonians who slaved on the port. Reaching her destination, Meesei rushed into the Argonian Assemblage where she and her family lived. Throwing a log on the roaring flame in the middle of the room, Meesei sighed and prepared for her evening job as a bar maiden.

Usually, Argonians are not allowed in the city of Windhelm for the Nords of the city are prejudice and disliked any but their own kind due to the conflict of the current war. Meesei was an exception with skin soft and pale, hair silky and short, she was a very attractive Nord woman but the red scales crawling up her arms and back told a different story. Meesei was the product of her father falling for a Nord sailor who after her birth, died in a storm while sailing. Meesei’s Nordic looks allowed her access to the city and a job at Candleharth Hall as a bar maiden. Overall, life was rather boring for her.

Making her way to Candleharth Hall, Meesei smiled at the poor orphan girl at the docks gate and gave her some bread. Ignoring the stares and some glares, Meesei walked through the wooden doors of the hall to be hit with the heat of the blazing fire.

“There you are, Meesei. Quickly surve some customers” The owner called out to her, pointing to the tray of beers on the bar. “Yes ma’am” Meesei tightened an apron around her waist and picked up the tray, walking around the wooden building, humming along with the bard as she handed out drinks. It was then when the words BEWARE THE BUTCHER caught her eye.

Scribbled onto a crumbled piece of paper was the words written in bold, nailed onto the wooden walls of Candleharh Hall, Meesei gulped at the thought of the butcher. For a few weeks now, young, pretty women had been found mutilated and deformed; lying dead in the graveyard, the guards, clueless and having no leads, leaving the crimes to happen.

“Rather gruesome, eh?” A sweet voice came from behind Meesei shoulder where Suzanna’s hand was placed. “Yeah” Meesei agreed, putting her hand on top of Suzanna’s and tightened her grip.

Turning around, Meesei smiled at her fellow worker and leaned forward, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. Suzanna drew her closer and the men around them began hooting.

“SUZANNA, MEESEI! GET BACK TO WORK!” the owner cried from the bar, throwing a wet cloth at Meesei.

“Suzanna, your shift is ending. It is six” Meesei began wiping the tables clean, smiling up at her lover.

“Yes, I know. Do you wanna meet up after your shift?” Suzanna winked and without waiting for an answer, left.


	8. Tali- Flowers and bandits

Tali hummed as she dipped her bare feet in the flowing river water, cleaning away the dirt. She placed her hand woven basket next to her which is filled to the brim with wild flowers of blue, red and purple. She sighed and stretched out on the soft grass and closed her eyes, protecting them from the harsh evening sun which was causing her hair to shine slightly. The water was cold but pleasantly so, soothing the sores that were on her feet; the smell of wood and dirt calming her and she breathed in deeply, listening to the sound of the wind and water. Interrupting the peace, Tali heard a twig snap loudly close by; she bolted up and studied the area with suspicion.

“Well, well, looky what we ‘ave ere lads” A gruff voice said is amusement as a group of bandits emerged from the woods, they were a brutish looking bunch with their fur amour crudely cut with dirt and scars marring their bodies. They laughed coarsely as they surrounded their prey; a young pretty woman with short ginger hair and a round, innocent childlike face, dressed in a long blue dress with a leather corset hugging her frame. To them, Tali was the perfect victim; the leader approached her, smirking cruelty with an axe in hand and a hungry look in his eyes

^^^^^^^^^

Tali reached the town of Falkreath, brushing of the dirt from her dress while she hummed, gripping her flower basket and walked through the town gates.

“Good evening Sir” she smiled at the night guard who nodded back. A little girl waltzed up to Natalia, smiling gleefully at the sight of the pretty flowers "And what are you doing out at this hour, the suns going out and you know that we've been having problems with wolves"

Tali smiled at the little stranger who giggled and pointed at her flowers "Can I have one please miss? my friends told me you always have pretty things" Tali reached into the basket and pulled out a fresh blue blossom tucking behind the girls ear "There you go, now run back home " she waved at the child’s mother who was hanging around the fruit stall and staring at them.

“Did you hear? A group of bandits where found today. Torn to pieces they was” A man whispered to his neighbour as Tali passed.

Tali gazed up at the full twin moons that were raising, the blood red and pearly white orbs lighting up the sky with their glow, Tali reached her little wooden hut that was at the edge of the town and pulled the door open, greeted by the homely sight of her bed of furs and hay with the fire place still glowing with embers. Stoking the ashes and embers Tali brought the fire a light with a few logs of wood. Crushing the blue flowers in a morter, Tali set to work, making some ointments for and potions for the people of the town.


	9. Annah- Prisoner

Annah sat in the dark, dank cell, her steel and fur armor stripped from her and she was now wearing the traditional prisoner garb of brown, itchy clothe for top and pants. The metal bars of the cell rattles as a guard opened the door and placed a bowl of food on the floor

"Enjoy your meal scum, if it were up to me you wouldn't be eating at all, bandit" he scoffed at her, fury burning in Annah's chest and she spat at the guards feet. After the guard left, Annah pulled the bowl near her, grimacing at the grey slop the guards passed off as food. Slurping the wheat gruel down, she laid back

'I'd rather be at the hands of the giant' she sighed and laid back playing with the metal poles that lead to the prisons underground were the wastes were thrown, one of the poles shifted slightly as she pulled at them, grinning with success, Annah continued to pull until it created a small pathway down into the underground. Squeezing herself down through the gap, Annah then place the loose pole and snuck through the path, water dripping from the stone and moss and muck squelching between her bare feet. Reaching the end of the tunnel, Hannah pulled the metal gate loose and breathed in the fresh air.


	10. Meesei- Blood in the snow

Meesei gaped in horror at the scene before her, Suzanna her lover lay naked in the city cemetery, her skin riddled with deep ragged gashes and puss and blood oozed from her wounds. Guards and pass-a-byers surround her in the dark of night, crying and muttering with worry.

"The butcher has struck again" the old woman shrieked and wailed. Meesei glanced at her, Suzanna had been the third to be found like this and by the looks of the cluelessness of the city guard she wouldn't be the last.

Meesei moved closer at the scene and approached the guard standing next to it.

"Stand back citizen, this is official business" the guard huffed through his helmet "Well you are rubbish at your official business, please let me see her she was my lover, you idiot" Meesei yelled, crossing her arms around herself to keep warm against the bitter cold, snowflakes landing in her hair. The guard allowed her forward, standing over the body was the town physician.

"The wounds on her body were left by Nordic embalming tools, which are rare to find" She said, turning to Meesei and frowned

“And only I have access to them”

"And I guess you're out of the question" Meesei snarled, raising her eyebrow at the physician

“Do you really think I would create more bodies to clean up, I did not do this. I know you cared for her but don’t let that cloud your judgement, young one”

Meesei gazed tearfully back down at the cold corpse Suzanna's glazed blue eyes staring at the snowy grey night sky. Meesei knelt down next to her and closed her eyelids, giving her the last rights, sending her soul of to the next realm.

Lurking around the corner a hooded figure curled its hand around the stone, staring at Meesei through the crowd.


End file.
